


If You Want Me

by f-ing-ruthless-baz (f_ing_ruthless_baz)



Series: Red, White, and Royal Blue Ficlets [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Closets, Ficlet, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_ing_ruthless_baz/pseuds/f-ing-ruthless-baz
Summary: Impulsively, Alex barrels through the door after him, only to find himself crashing into Henry’s back, and the pair of them lurch forward, to the far wall of what he now realizes is yet another supply closet. They don’t land on the floor this time, thankfully, but it takes a minute to disentangle themselves.“We have to stop meeting like this,” Alex says, but Henry just huffs impatiently and pushes Alex away with his shoulder so he can stand upright.Henry tries to get some distance after seeing Alex kiss Nora at midnight, but Alex follows him.





	If You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from [a list on tumblr](https://f-ing-ruthless-baz.tumblr.com/post/186937783832/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts): _A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond._
> 
> Just a bit of a _what if_ of their First Kiss scene.

The taste of peach schnapps still lingers on Alex’s lips when he opens his eyes. He looks past Nora to see Henry staring at him with an inscrutable expression and smiles at him, but Henry merely takes another swig from his bottle of champagne and pushes himself into the swarm of bodies, like he’s trying to disappear.

Alex doesn’t want Henry to disappear. He wants Henry to keep celebrating with him. He wants Henry to stay.

“I’m, uh—I’m gonna…” he says loudly in Nora’s ear, while following Henry’s head through the crowd with his eyes. He doesn’t even bother finishing that sentence before peeling away from her so he can trail after him.

He wonders if Henry’s spotted someone on the floor he wants to dance with, but the thought sits uneasily in Alex’s stomach, so he brushes it aside. It relaxes a little, however, when he sees Henry emerge from the other side of the dance floor—until Henry glances back over his shoulder and spots Alex, that is. He looks mildly panicked, and quickens his step as he heads for the doors.

All Alex can think is that Henry can’t leave yet. _He just can’t_.

Alex speeds up as well, but doesn’t manage to catch Henry before he pushes his way through the doors. Alex jogs a few steps to keep up, and finds Henry hurrying down the hall, towards the bathrooms. For a second, he thinks Henry’s just bursting to use the facilities, but that wouldn’t explain why he practically ran when he saw Alex behind him.

Henry’s pace falters momentarily, when he notices the long lineups for the bathrooms, and he looks back at Alex. There’s definitely panic in his eye, Alex notes, and Henry quickly veers left, through the nearest door. Alex isn’t even sure where that door goes—he’s certain Henry doesn’t know, either—but he can’t figure out why Henry would go to all this effort just to avoid him. He thought they were, well, not exactly _friends_, but… something in a not-too-distant realm from that. Right?

Impulsively, Alex barrels through the door after him, only to find himself crashing into Henry’s back, and the pair of them lurch forward, to the far wall of what he now realizes is _yet another_ supply closet. They don’t land on the floor this time, thankfully, but it takes a minute to disentangle themselves.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Alex says, but Henry just huffs impatiently and pushes Alex away with his shoulder so he can stand upright.

Alex backs up towards the door, slapping his hand against the wall next to it repeatedly until he finds the light switch. There’s no threat outside now, so there’s no reason to stay in the dark, he figures.

Henry turns to face him with a stern look. “Move,” he says, motioning to the door like he wants to leave.

Alex presses his back against the door and spreads his arms to block the rest of it. “Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I would like to get out of here, that’s what’s going on—”

“No, I mean, why did you run?” he asks. “You’re acting like I was chasing you.”

“Well, you were, weren’t you?”

“Only because you were running away!”

“It was all just getting a bit much in there and I needed to step aside for a minute, all right?” Henry says, his jaw tense.

“And you couldn’t just tell me that?”

“Please move, Alex,” he repeats, reaching for the door handle while urging Alex aside with his elbow.

“Wait,” Alex says, grabbing his wrist. “Talk to me.”

Henry stares at him, briefly bemused—and for a couple seconds too long—before frowning and wrenching his arm free. “It’s late and I would like to leave,” he says, giving Alex a determined shove to the side. It doesn’t go over well.

Alex wedges himself between Henry and the door again, and Henry tries to wrestle him out of the way. He pushes against Henry’s chest with both hands, but Henry grabs his wrists instead. The more Alex pushes forward, the more Henry pushes back. They continue, back and forth like that, until Henry blindsides him by pulling him in close and spinning him away from the door.

“_Jesus, fuck!_” he grumbles when his back hits the large shelving unit that’s bolted to the wall.

He curls his fingers around Henry’s lapels, to keep him from getting away before they can have a mature, civilized, grown-up conversation about this—but Henry doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. His grip tightens on Alex’s wrists as he pushes closer, and Alex thinks there is a nonzero chance that Henry might be able to kill him, if he ever felt so inclined. Which he probably does, often.

Their breath mingles in the space between them, quick and shallow as Alex’s heart races. Henry’s so close, it’s a lot to take in all at once. The warmth of his hands wrapped around Alex’s wrists, the smell of his fancy cologne, the way his mouth is hanging ever-so-slightly open—all adding up to something Alex doesn’t fully understand.

He hates it, though. The thought of Henry walking away from him now—walking away from _this_, whatever it is—twists unpleasantly in his gut, and he gives another tug on Henry’s lapels, halving the slight distance between their faces.

Henry’s eyes widen in surprise, but they quickly settle on something more intense. It’s not a look Alex recognizes on Henry’s face, though. It’s at once frightening and exhilarating; he doesn’t know what to expect.

“_Kiss me,_” Henry breathes—Alex certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“_What?_” he asks dumbly, and far too loudly for their proximity.

“If you want me, then kiss me.”

Alex isn’t quite sure what Henry means by that; his brain stumbles along, trying to parse it, but he’s far too drunk to come to any conclusions. All he knows is the following:

  1. He _does_ want Henry—to stay, at least;
  2. It’s alright to kiss friends on New Year’s Eve;
  3. It probably doesn’t even count if no one can see them; and
  4. Kissing Henry doesn’t sound like the worst idea ever.

In fact, it’s almost as if it’s ringing this tiny bell in the back of his mind, like he’s possibly considered it before, and then buried it under the pile of Things He’s Not Ready To Think About Yet.

So he kisses Henry.

And it’s nothing like he imagined it would be—_had he imagined it, then?_—but in this moment, it’s everything, sucking the air right out of his lungs.

Henry’s hands continue searing into Alex’s wrists for a moment before he releases them to hold the sides of Alex’s face. Like he’s trying to take in as much of him as possible, while he has the chance. Like he’s afraid this is going to slip away from him if he doesn’t.

_If you want me, then kiss me. _Henry’s words make a little more sense to Alex in this context.

Henry thinks Alex _wants_ him. And Alex doesn’t even have time to freak out about that, presently, because Henry’s tongue is sliding against his, and his brain is collapsing in on itself, and he doesn’t want this to end.

He loosens his grip on Henry’s blazer and pushes his hands up around the back of his neck, raking his fingers through thick yet soft blond hair. It’s not quite how he’d imagined it, either—and he’d definitely imagined it…

_Oh_.

All their semi-flirty, late-night conversations slip a little more into focus, now, and Alex wonders vaguely how obvious this should have been for him from the start.

“Mm, wait,” he says, breaking away to catch his breath. Henry pulls back, like he’s embarrassed, but Alex doesn’t let him get very far. “No, I mean—Shit. This is good, Henry. It’s really—”

Henry shakes his head and frees himself from Alex’s clutches. “No, you’re right. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know what I—”

“For fuck’s sake, Henry,” Alex grumbles, twisting his hand up in Henry’s tie to keep him from leaving. He reins him back in, and Henry blinks at him in bewilderment. “Do you want me or not?”

Henry swallows and gives a small nod. “Of course,” he says quietly.

Alex pulls Henry’s face down, until their noses are almost touching, and smirks. “_Then kiss me_.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more of me and my fics and my nonsense on Tumblr as [f-ing-ruthless-baz](https://f-ing-ruthless-baz.tumblr.com)!


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